


idyllic nights

by jaylene



Series: halcyon days verse [3]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Biting, F/M, Fluff, Fraternal Polyandry, Frottage, I just couldn't post it until now, I've had most of this written for the past year and a half, Kissing, Mutual Masturbation, Polyandry, Sloppy Makeouts, Smut, basically just an excuse for fluff and smut, because it does involve spoilers for halcyon days, what happens post-epilogue of halcyon days
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-08-28 10:04:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16721268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaylene/pseuds/jaylene
Summary: The natural progression of Sakura, Indra, and Ashura's relationship.





	1. Chapter 1

Sakura pants, rolling to the side as Ashura drives his heel down toward her head. She grins, flipping around and throwing herself bodily upon his back.

Ashura grunts, trying to right himself before Sakura goes and sweeps his feet out from under him.

Ashura falls forward, catching himself on his arms in a low crouch.

“You good?” Sakura asks, worry creeping into her voice as she still lounges on his back.

“Fine,” he replies, smile clear in his voice. “You’re getting faster.”

Sakura grins. “That’s quite a compliment coming from you Ashura. Shisui is still sulking over that race he had with you and Indra. Really hurt his ego.”

Ashura laughs and Sakura can feel it ripple through his body into hers. “That boy needed to have the wind removed from his sails.”

Sakura rolls her eyes, even though Ashura can’t see it. She does, however, poke him in the side and smile as he flinches. “Don’t tease. They’re all horribly intimidated by you already. There’s no need to show them up.”

Ashura snorts, straightening his arms. Sakura rolls off easily, scowling lightly as Ashura flops onto his back. Smiling, Ashura grabs her and pulls her onto his chest. Sakura blinks and stares down into happy dark eyes. She wrinkles her nose.

“You smell,” she says, brushing his sweaty hair out of his face.

“You like the way I smell,” Ashura declares.

Sakura stares at him, wary of the mischievous glint in Ashura’s eyes. “No.”

Ashura does not heed her command, wrapping sweaty arms around her and holding her close to his armpits. Sakura screeches, flailing against his grip. The duo wrestles with each other, laughter filling the air until Sakura manages to pin his arms to the ground with chakra-enhanced strength. She sits above him, a triumphant grin upon her face.

“I win,” she says, eyes bright with victory.

Ashura shrugs to the best of his ability. His gaze focuses on her lips.

His eyes darken.

Sakura nearly jumps in surprise when Ashura leans up and steals a kiss. He lays back, a smug look in his eyes as he stares at her flushed and surprised face. “ _I_ win,” he claims, laughing all the while.

Sakura’s eyes narrow. She _refuses_ to lose. While his eyes are still closed as he laughs, Sakura ducks down, pressing her lips to his and slipping her tongue inside. She explores his mouth, losing sight of her initial goal as he moans into the kiss, straining to reach her. Her grip on his arms relaxes as she deepens the kiss; the rest of the world fading away as they tangle together, nearly melding as one. (She forgets the need to breathe, the need to do anything except simply be _here_   up for another ki nfore vous grin upon his face and she wants to smack it away but she wants this pleasure to continue in this moment with Ashura.)

Sakura releases a groan of surprise as Ashura rolls her over, holding himself aloft on his elbows as he smiles tenderly down at her. He brushes some hair from her face before nuzzling up against her nose, panting all the while.

“Had enough?” Sakura asks, more breathless than she would have liked.

Ashura’s eyes darken once more, a smirk curling up his reddening lips. “Not even close.”

* * *

 

Sakura smiles sympathetically from across the room as Indra scowls at the people who come near him.

They are at a diplomatic dinner in Kiri and there are delegates from all the corners of the world, ninja and civilian alike. With their status as war heroes, all three have been constantly waylaid in discussions and praise. They have all been pulled away from each other; Sakura to discuss the political climate, Ashura to speak (and undoubtedly highly embellish) their heroic feats, and Indra to…well, be Indra.

A few individuals have tried to speak with him, usually brave individuals of the younger generation. Each encounter has left him scowling all the more and now he sits alone at a corner table.

Sakura excuses herself from her current speaking companions, two doctors from Suna and a surgeon from Iwa who wish to discuss international health care. With the slightest of smiles, she glides over to her brooding boyfriend, smile widening as he turns bright red eyes on her.

“How are you?” she asks, running a gentle hand over his arm as she takes a seat beside him.

The dark atmosphere around him subsides immediately as he slumps slightly. This is the Indra she knows and loves: a bit reserved but human all the same. Sakura knows that they are being watched with awe but she ignores it. (She’s getting used to it honestly.)

“Terrible,” he mutters.

Sakura makes a noise of empathy, grabbing his hand in both of hers as she focuses on the tendons and ligaments. She powers her hands lightly with chakra, rubbing deep into the tissue of his skin. Indra (and Ashura as well) constantly abuses his hands and it is up to Sakura alone to make sure his body doesn’t give out on him.

Indra groans, low and deep in his chest, a smile of contentment upon his face. In many ways, it reminds Sakura of a purr and she cannot help the fond smile that flits across her face. (Indra is, at heart, as much a cat as any of his former Summons. Still, much like a cat, he refuses to listen to anyone’s reasoning but his own. Well, sometimes he adheres to Sakura’s advice, but he still tends to be stubborn.)

He pouts in disappointment when she releases his hand but quickly quiets as she grabs the other.

“Have you talked to anyone at this event?” Sakura asks, eyes scanning the crowd. She recognizes maybe a third of the people present. Some are watching their encounter from a distance. Sakura rolls her eyes, knowing the rumor mill will be in full swing for the next few days. Even after explaining that she is in a relationship with both Ashura and Indra, people are overly curious about their relationship. It’s the price of being well-known. “I know you had a good time at the Suna dinner.”

“I _have_ talked to people,” Indra claims.

Sakura arches a brow. “Outside of myself and Ashura?”

“No,” he replies, deflating slightly. “Besides the Suna dinner was enjoyable because I had a chance to mess with that Gaara kid.”

“That Gaara kid is Kazekage,” Sakura says dryly, amusement clear in her voice. Neither he nor Ashura is a fan of Gaara. “And must you antagonize him so?”

Indra smiles, eyes soft and bright as he looks at her. “I live to pester you.”

Sakura feels her face heat slightly, clearing her throat and looking away. Indra’s face is a dangerous, pretty weapon when he chooses to weld it. “How’s your head?” Indra is sensitive to overexposure to bright lights and large crowds. “Headaches? Weariness?”

“I’ve a bit of a headache,” he says. “I was hoping you’d help me with it later.”

Sakura stands abruptly, tugging at Indra’s hand. “I’m not going to make you wait. I know ‘a bit of a headache’ for you is actually a migraine. C’mon.”

Still he hesitates. “They’ll miss us.”

“They have Ashura to entertain them. Besides, we’re ‘war heroes’ or something of the sort; we’re allowed some leeway on these events.” She pulls on his hand once more, smile inviting. “Please?”

And with that, Indra is a goner. (If Sakura knew the power she had over him, over _both_ of them…well, not much would change probably. Sakura is good to her core.)

“Alright,” he sighs, wrapping his hand around Sakura’s. In all honesty, he is relieved. His head is throbbing, his eyes are somewhat fuzzy, and he highly dislikes the gazes turned his way. He doesn’t like being out in the open like this, surrounded by powerful shinobi and even more powerful political figures. “Where are we headed?”

Sakura hums. “Well, we can’t go all the way back to the rooms…” Her eyes light upon the large coat closet. “There’s an idea.”

Indra turns, taking in the cheery blue door. “No.”

“Yes,” Sakura replies, towing him forward.

There is laughter and slight elbowing as they make their way into a closet full of soft furs and fanciful cloaks. There is something tranquil about being cushioned on all sides by a sea of clothing. The noises of the ball fade away and, for a moment, it is as if they are the only two in the world.

“Bend down a bit,” Sakura says, brushing Indra’s heavy bangs out of his face.

He acquiesces, humming as Sakura glides fingertips over his cheekbones. His eyes fall to half-mast as he stares down at Sakura. He loves it when she gives him her full attention like this. When her hands light up with blue energy, his eyes fall fully shut and he releases a groan as the pounding in his head recedes.

“Better?” Sakura asks.

“I can think of a few ways to make this even better,” Indra replies, eyes still closed as he leans down toward her, using his lips to map out her face.

Sakura giggles, submitting to the soothing ministrations. She loves it when Indra gets like this, open and playful. She returns his butterfly kisses, fluttering her eyelashes along his jawline and cheeks. He snorts, retaliating with a trail of kisses down her neck.

Sakura bites back a moan, pressing up against Indra and pushing him into a wall of coats. (So what if she uses chakra-reinforced strength? Tenten and Tsunade-sama would heartily approve.)

“Are-are you drawing the constellations?” Sakura asks, as Indra finally pulls back enough to look into her eyes.

He is thoroughly debauched, hair askew, lips red and puffy, and panting shallowly. He is a vision. He buries his face against her shoulder and releases a laugh. “Caught that did you?” he asks breathlessly.

“It’d be hard not to,” Sakura replies, sucking a dark, blossoming bruise where his neck connects to his shoulder.

She smirks as he groans deeply, settling his hands against her waist and aligning his hips with hers. “You’re killing me Sakura,” he mumbles, throwing his head back against the coats.

Sakura just follows the strong line of his neck, kissing his Adam’s apple and gliding her hands up his back. Her fingers strum against his spine and Indra’s toes curl as heat licks up his back.

“Do that again,” he nearly pleads.

Sakura shoots him a quizzical look, slowly moving her fingers along his spine once more, only this time slightly harder. Indra nearly thrashes, vision going odd as he stares down at Sakura.

Sakura laughs.

“What?” Indra asks, hurt creeping into his tone.

“Your eyes are crossed,” Sakura explains, pulling him down by the front of his shirt while simultaneously leaning up to kiss him gently on the tip of his nose. “You’re adorable,” she says, adjusting his bangs to look less disorderly. “Time to rejoin the crowd.”

Indra moves his collar to cover the bites Sakura left on his neck, grinning goofily as he follows Sakura out of the coat closet. As they make their way back inside, Indra grabs Sakura’s hand in his own, squeezing gently. His heart warms as Sakura turns a brilliant grin on him.

He doesn’t even mind having to deal with the crowd for a few more hours.

(Well…not as much.)

* * *

 

“It’s…” Sakura trails off, eyes fluttering for a moment before she steels herself. “It’s time to get ready.”

Ashura makes a noise of protest, humming against the delicate skin of her throat. Indra laves his way over the back of her neck, pulling her hair to the side as he sucks a dark mark into her skin there.

“Ser-seriously though,” Sakura says, pulling away from the brothers. She stares at them, eyes dilated and slightly wild as she musters all of her self-control. “We’re meeting with the princess of Yukigakure to discuss…” she stops, embarrassed.

“To discuss the rights to a movie about _The Pacifist Ninja_ ,” Ashura says, eyes dancing with mischief.

Sakura huffs irritably.

“Why are _we_ doing this again?” Indra asks, picking up a brush and running it through Sakura’s mussed hair. “Sai owns all the rights to the franchise.”

“Yeah but can you imagine him trying to negotiate with these people?” Ashura asks, pulling off his rumpled shirt and replacing it with one that is a little nicer. Sakura’s eyes trail over his bared skin and stretched muscles appreciatively. He is all sinew and sharp turns and shadowy dips that tantalize with the promise of more. “It would undoubtedly be chaos. We’d probably have another war on our hands.”

“Besides, Sai named me his ‘agent;’ whatever that means,” Sakura adds, leaning back into the soothing strokes. “He wanted me to do this and honestly, it’s nice to get away for a while.” She brightens. “Maybe we’ll get a chance to see Naruto and Karin on our way back; I’m sure Tenten won’t mind.”

“Whatever you want, beloved,” Ashura says, taking a seat in front of her with a smile.

Sakura feels Indra’s fingers deftly twist her hair into some sort of up-do and she trusts him to make it look professional. She smiles, glancing at that clock on the wall.

She jumps to her feet, hair pulling slightly with a frenetic look on her face. “We only have ten minutes!” she exclaims.

The brothers finish dressing as Sakura throws on a tasteful dark suit of civilian wear, careful to keep from ruffling her hair.

“You think they’ll make the actress who plays me dye her hair?” she asks, slipping on her shoes.

Ashura chuckles, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt. “They better. Sai will throw an absolute fit if they don’t preserve his ‘artistic integrity.’”

Sakura snorts. “He still calls me ‘ugly’ so I doubt it.”

“Better than ‘honey’ or ‘kitten,’” Ashura replies with a twist of his lips.

Sakura laughs, heading to the door.

“Are you forgetting something, Sakura?” Indra asks.

Sakura pauses and turns to face them. She looks them up and down, puzzlement clear upon her face. Nothing seems out of the ordinary.

“No,” she says. “I don’t believe so.”

Indra smiles, gesturing with a finger to the dark mark blossoming against the side of his neck. It is striking, marring his pretty pale skin. There are others as well, indentions around the throat, nibbles against his clavicle, and flowering bruises upon the parts of his chest that are exposed. Sakura has been quite busy.

Ashura looks much the same.

It is, overall, very obvious that they have been thoroughly debauched.

“So?” Sakura asks, raising a shoulder casually even as a flush colors her cheeks. “You look fine to me.” She ignores the way that Ashura begins to grin toothily and Indra’s smile takes on a smugger mien. “Besides, it would be a waste of chakra.”

“A waste of chakra, hm?” Ashura drawls, looping an arm around her waist as she escapes through the door.

Sakura nods, refusing to make eye contact with either of them. She knows that they are going to be insufferable for the rest of the day but so what? She likes to see her mark on them. It warms her to the core.

“It’s alright Ashura,” Indra says and Sakura glances up at him, hopeful that he’ll end the teasing. Instead, Indra smirks, eyes dancing with merriment as he says, “After all, Sakura is just trying to preserve her artistic integrity.”

Sakura’s responding screech and the brothers’ resounding laughter startles all the occupants of the hotel.


	2. Chapter 2

Sakura falls onto the sofa with a sigh, leaving a trail of outerwear behind her. She’s been in meetings all day with the Iwa Inner Council of Elders and they are, in a word, exhausting. Indra is speaking with some of the clan heirs and Ashura is…

“How were the wind bags?” he chimes cheerfully as he sits up from the bed, looking cheerful.

Sakura makes a grunting noise before peeling herself from the couch cushion. She’s pretty sure the unfortunate couch will forever have an imprint of her face upon it.

He nods sympathetically. “Thought as much.” He pats the bed. “C’mon.”

She makes her way over in a heavy trudge, falling onto the bed gracelessly and allows Ashura to mold himself around her. Ashura gives good cuddles. (Indra’s are good too, but it takes much longer to coerce him into cuddling.) “How was the Outer Council?” she asks with a yawn.

“Much less fussy than the people you were dealing with all day, brave heart,” he replies. “Then again the Outer Council tends to be less…set in their opinions.”

Sakura hums her agreement, snuggling closer to Ashura’s chest. When Tenten sent her out to Iwa, Sakura was cautiously optimistic, glad to even be invited once more within the gates of the isolated village. Still, it is an uphill battle, especially with the Inner Council. The Yondaime Tsuchikage, Kurotsuchi, is eager for change as are many in the younger generations. They remember her from her first, less auspicious visit.

The elders, however…

Sakura groans, closing her eyes. “I’m going to take a nap.”

“You deserve one,” Ashura replies, running a soothing hand up and down Sakura’s spine.

She shivers at the pleasant sensation, lulled to sleep by Ashura’s rhythmic breathing and the strokes up and down her back.

When she wakes, it is slowly and in the slightest of increments. It is a luxury to be honest. Sakura is accustomed to waking at the slightest of sounds, tensing into a battle-ready position. Life has taught her that lesson the hard way. Still, sleeping at the side of one of the Ōtsutsuki brothers always puts her at ease.

Her senses come back slowly: the fading sun, the warmth of Ashura’s embrace, the scent of sandalwood and mint (an odd combination unique to Ashura), and the feeling of fingers stroking flames up the back of her leg.

She smiles, rolling over to regard Ashura fondly. His eyes are still heavy and dark with sleep, an unhurried grin transforming his face. Sakura tries to memorize him in that moment: all of his guards and barriers lowered as he stares at her like she is the only thing that matters to him. (Outside of Indra, though she does not know it, she truly is.)

“Hey,” she greets, leaning in close.

“Hey,” he replies, still skittering his fingers over her leg. “Sleep well?”

“Definitely.”

She glances down, noticing that her prosthetic has been removed. Ashura’s hand trails over the darkened, disfigured flesh of her leg and Sakura feels a flush of shame heat the back of her neck.

“What’s wrong, Sakura?” he asks, concern lighting his voice as he takes in her crestfallen expression.

Sakura just shakes her head slightly, cursing herself for destroying the wonderful moment with her doubts and fears of inadequacy.

“It’s nothing,” she says, smiling lopsidedly.

Ashura isn’t having it.

He sits up, holding himself above her as she lies prone beneath him. While slightly wary of his exact intentions, Sakura trusts him implicitly, watching him with bright green eyes as he examines her fully. She is dressed in nothing but her underwear and she cannot help but flush at the _heat_ in Ashura’s eyes.

“You have no idea how gorgeous you are, do you?” he asks, a wry smile quirking his lips.

He moves as she opens her mouth to protest the compliment. Ashura leans down and kisses her leg. Her contrary remark dies in her throat as she releases a long, low, protracted groan of enjoyment.

She stares down into dark eyes bewilderedly. She had no idea that the skin affected by the poison was so sensitive. She fists her hands in the sheets as Ashura trails his lips up her thigh to her hip. (She can feel the wicked, mischievous grin upon his face and she wants to smack it away but she wants this pleasure to continue even more.)

“Like that, do you?” he murmurs against her skin and Sakura cannot fight the _whine_ that breaks free of her throat. Ashura chuckles and swipes his tongue up and along her leg. She near about squeals at that. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Ashura continues to shower affection upon her leg, laving and kissing his way over her hipbone, up onto the places where the poison scarred her stomach. Sakura is unaware of how much time has passed, caught up in the new, and disorientating sensations being introduced to her.

Finally, she grabs hold of him, pulling him up into her embrace, pleading rather breathlessly, “Ashura!”

He releases one long, drawn-out moan before pulling her into a kiss. It is all clashing teeth and nipping at lips. It is passion and fire and Sakura loves it.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” Ashura groans out, thrusting his hips down against hers.

“I…uh, might have some idea,” Sakura replies, feeling him pressed intimately against her, _straining_ against her.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he says, hovering mere inches above her. He regards her seriously. “You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever met. I love you, Sakura, _all_ of you.” Ashura caresses her leg once more, smiling as she bucks up against him. “You are the kindest—” He presses his hips down against her and Sakura can _feel_ him. “—sweetest—” He nips her lip, tugging before kissing away the sting. “—most stunning and intelligent person I have ever known. Kami, I love you.”

Sakura ignores the haze of tears in her eyes as she searches the sincerity in Ashura’s. He is telling the truth and Sakura cannot help pulling him closer and cherishing the moment. “Thank you,” she says roughly.

“Do you believe it?” he asks, regarding her seriously.

“I’m beginning to,” she replies, reaching up for another kiss.

* * *

 

Sakura moans as Ashura mouths against her throat even as Indra thrusts up against her. Heat pools in Sakura’s stomach and she rubs her legs together to relieve some of the pressure.

Ashura pulls away, mouth red and swollen as he stares at her with heavily lidded eyes. “Sakura,” he moans when she bites down on his neck. “W-wait a second!”

She pulls away and Indra pauses as well.

“What?” she asks.

“I…I want to see you. See what you like,” Ashura says, face flushed.

Indra and Sakura exchange glances before she nods. “What exactly did you have in mind?”

Ashura looks uncharacteristically nervous. “Would you…would you be willing to show us how you pleasure yourself?” He hunches like he fears a negative response. “Just so we know what you like.”

Sakura smiles tenderly, looping her arms around his neck and pulling him in for a sweet kiss. Ashura has his moments of incredible gentleness. “Of course, but on one condition.” He looks worried for a moment. “Just...” Sakura cannot help the blush that rises up her neck. “Just as long as you guys do the same.”

Ashura and Indra both nod and Indra embraces her from behind.

Indra lifts her, tossing her lightly onto the bed and smiling as she giggles.

They both take a seat on the bed as well, watching her intently. Sakura flushes slightly beneath their intense stares but she is determined to see this through. She relaxes back into the pillows, lifting her hands and trailing them through her hair as she takes the time to unbind her braid.

Sakura moans as her hands work through her hair, tousling and loosening it. Both brothers bite back a groan at the sight of Sakura, hair unbound and neck exposed. She moves her hands downward, over her sensitive neck and down to her button-up shirt.

Slowly, she slips the buttons out of the holes one by one, tracing light, clever fingers over her skin. She imagines Indra and Ashura doing it instead and she lets out a throaty moan.

Indra presses a hard hand down against his cock as it strains against his sleep pants.

Sakura finally unbuttons the last and shrugs it aside slightly, allowing the men to catch sight of the pale expanse of her stomach. Ashura strangles a sound as he sees the bright red bra that Sakura has donned. His favorite color.

Sakura cups her breasts through the bra, weighing each. She strums over her hardened nipples. Sakura bites her lip as she begins to move her fingers in tight circles around them. Suppressing a moan, she feels a responding pulse of heat between her thighs and she decides to move further.

Sakura releases the clasp on the bra, shrugging both it and her shirt off, leaving her completely topless. Her nipples are a bright, excited pink and Sakura lightly pinches and twists them between her fingers. She nearly screams at the sensation, much stronger now that the bra is gone.

She opens her eyes, gaze searching for her boyfriends. They do not disappoint. Ashura is palming the heavy outline of his dick, watching her with absorbed rapture. Indra’s red eyes spin and Sakura knows that he is committing this moment, this visage of her coming undone to memory. His hand is pressed against his cock but he doesn’t move it. Both are breathing heavily and noisily.

“Kami, Sakura,” Ashura says, seeing the way she stares at them. “See what you do to me? You’re…you’re a vision.”

Indra doesn’t even move but the hungry, nearly ravenous, look upon his face tells Sakura all that she needs to know.

Sakura moves lower, inhibitions lowered now that she sees the way that her actions can make them fall apart. She’s barely done anything, hasn’t even moved her pants, and they look like they are about to fall apart. Honestly, she is about in the same boat. Their gazes feel like a physical touch and she is more sensitive than normal. The heat between her legs is almost a furnace now but she still puts it off.

Sakura wants to draw this out. She wants them (and herself) to be completely wrecked by the end of this experience.

So, Sakura maps out her waist and stomach, paying close, special attention to her scars. Every movement, every touch, stokes the fire at her core and she cannot help but pant, sprawling back against the pillows as she digs her feet into the mattress. Her left hand moves down to her sleep pants, fumbling with the laces there as her right hand traces over the scar at her hip.

She gets the ties loosened and pushes at the clothing, rucking them down and over her hips. They rest at her knees but Sakura is heedless of that. She moves her hands over her right leg, eyes rolling as her fingernails bite into the scarred tissue of her thigh.

Indra’s eyes hone in on the growing wet patch on Sakura’s red underwear and his fingers _itch_ to touch and caress her there. Still, he controls himself. He wants to learn her body, understand what she desires, and wrap himself up in her until he no longer knows where he ends and she begins.

“You’re killing me,” Ashura growls, accent heavier than normal. Sakura looks at him through half-lidded eyes and he bites back a curse at how unintentionally seductive she looks, all disheveled and rumpled. “Wearing my favorite color like that.” He cuts himself off, pushing his pants and underwear down and out of the way.

Sakura sits up eagerly, watching as he removes himself from his sleepwear. Ashura’s cock is fully erect and curved upward. She is slightly apprehensive because of his size. He is uncircumcised and throbbing with thick veins. Sakura is surprised by the angry color of it, dark red, nearly purpling at the tip. Pre-cum leaks from it and Sakura feels her internal temperature kick up a few degrees.

She turns to Indra with a slight pout and he quickly acquiesces her unspoken request, shucking his pants and displaying his dick without a hint of shame. Dark, curly hair creates a trail leading down from his bellybutton. Sakura feels her mouth go dry. He too is fully erect and dribbling pre-ejaculate. He is slightly thicker than his brother and his coloring is a bit lighter, a rosy, flushed red.

Sakura bites her lip almost raw as she watches the brothers. They handle themselves differently, Ashura using multiple, exploratory strokes (long and short and slightly twisting) and Indra gripping himself harder and using a more punishing grip.

A throb of want strikes Sakura in her lower stomach and she returns to her own pleasure. She plays with her slit through her underwear, thrusting her hips ever so slightly in imitation of the act she truly wants. With a growl of frustration, she yanks at her panties, actually ripping them from her body.

Both brothers chuckle before completely losing their focus, seeing the way she is bared before them. She has a thatch of wild, dark pink hair between her thighs and Indra gasps at how _wet_ she is right now. Ashura forgets to mourn the loss of his favorite set of panties when Sakura drags a single finger up between her legs to circle her clit.

The finger, soaked by her arousal, brushes over the clitoris itself and Sakura bucks, giving the brothers a good view of her quim. The folds are drenched and both feel a sense of pride and happiness at the chance to share this moment with her; a chance to see her come undone at her own hands.

Sakura braces her feet spread apart on the mattress, lifting as she moves her other hand down to her core. She spreads herself apart for her boyfriends’ perusal, smiling heatedly as they both make inarticulate sounds. Sakura pulls away from her clit, pumping two fingers inside and lifting her hips far off the bed.

Her eyes trail to her boyfriends who are masturbating themselves in time with the thrust of her fingers. She watches the way Ashura’s jaw clenches and Indra’s lips curl into a strained, concentrated grimace. She loves them. She loves them so much and she is so happy that this is the way they have decided to come together the first time.

She crooks her fingers and she is gone. She is flung over the edge of the cliff, screaming both of their names. Her vision blossoms into flowering spots and spinning planets. As she returns from the blissful abyss, Sakura watches as Ashura chokes out her name before coming all over the bedding. Indra manages a few moments longer, pumping once, twice, before ejaculating onto himself with a breathy, “ _Sakura!_ ”

All three fall boneless onto the bed, calming their hearts and noisy breathing over the next few minutes. Finally, Sakura manages to stand on shaky legs, grabbing linens and lovingly cleaning her boyfriends. They watch her with awe-stricken, adoring eyes.

Indra glances at the spots on the bedding and snorts. “Good job Ashura,” he says with a sardonic lilt.

Ashura flushes and is about to respond before Sakura shakes her head. “It’s fine,” she says, pushing them off the bed and stripping the comforter off. She catches the way they stare at her breasts and she hides a smug smile. “Let’s not argue tonight.”

So saying Sakura removes her prosthetic and crawls into the bed, unabashedly nude. She looks at them with an inviting gaze. Neither can resist and they eagerly climb into the bed on either side of her. They wrap their arms around her, Ashura strumming his finger over her pulse as Indra rests his hand over her heart. With a sleepy smile, Sakura throws an arm across Indra and entwines a leg with Ashura’s.


	3. Chapter 3

Sakura glances around sleepily, rubbing at her eyes in the fading light.

Indra and Ashura lay on either side of her, limbs thrown haphazardly over her own. Light filters through the blinds, creating interesting patterns over their skin.

All three are naked as the day they were born.

Sakura’s eyes drink in the sight of her boyfriends, relaxed and completely vulnerable. She knows how lucky she is to even be here with them. After that amazing…uh, _exploration_ earlier, there is something even more intimate about seeing the aftermath, when the tension of passion and lust fall into the soft curves of slumber and trust.

Sakura scoots slightly up the bed, careful to keep her jostling to a minimum. Her eyes trail over the brothers’ bare arms, the light and dark scars that create unique patterns on both of them. Lightly, almost not even touching, Sakura traces the scars that stick out the most to her; a swirling pale circle on Ashura and a jagged pink slash on Indra.

“Morning,” Indra mutters, dragging her closer and cracking a drowsy red eye her way.

“Not quite morning,” Ashura says, yawning. “Sentiment’s the same though.”

“Sorry for waking you,” Sakura says, heart falling at how exhausted her boys look. She hates that she ruined the peace with her curiosity.

“Not to worry,” Indra replies, sitting up. “What were you doing?”

Sakura bites her lip, slightly embarrassed. “I just…I guess I never realized that you guys had scars. I was…er, just interested.”

Ashura nods, not at all angry. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you, you know nude and just looked at you.” A flush rises up his cheeks. “We were usually…occupied.”

Indra laughs, grabbing Sakura’s arm and bringing it up to his eyes for inspection. “You’re right. I had no idea that you had a scar right here.” He kisses along her thumb and pointer finger where a slivery deep scar lays. “How’d you get this?” he asks.

Sakura snorts, both at the ticklish sensation and the story behind the scar. “It was one of my first experiences with a kunai. I was maybe three years old? Anyway, I found a rusty kunai and decided that I was a shinobi. It went as well as could be expected. My aunt found me in the backyard, staring down at my bleeding hand with fascination. I think she cried more than I did; she thought I’d cut off my thumb.”

Indra kisses the pad of her thumb, chuckling as well. “I’m glad that your thumb remained intact.”

“How about this one?” Ashura asks, brushing fingers over an almost perfect circle on her shoulder.

“Kumo actually. A spar with Yugito and Bee got a little too intense.” Sakura grins, leaning into Ashura’s hands as he massages her shoulder. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a grown man cry so much. I made the medic-nin keep the superficial scarring just so I could lord it over him. Yugito wasn’t as easy to fool but she felt terrible about it too.”

She rolls over, oblivious to the way that the brothers’ eyes trail over her breasts appreciatively. Sakura grasps Ashura’s forearm, dragging it close and mapping out the concentric circles scars that surrounds his lower arm.

Ashura shivers.

“What’s this?”

Indra laughs and nearly falls off the bed with his chuckles, ignoring the way that Ashura glares at him.

“What?” Sakura asks, feeling out of the loop.

Ashura’s cheeks flare with heat. “I…well, as you know I was the first one to Summon the bears. Well, I Summoned Chikari first.”

“You’re kidding,” Sakura says, eyes softening with empathy. Chikari is a brawler Summon, a tiny green polar bear. Her main battled method? Ripping things apart among her five rows of teeth. “I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah,” Ashura says, wincing. “She wasn’t exactly receptive to my Summoning and she tore my arm to shreds. Indra is actually the one who patched me up, calling me a moron the entire time.”

Indra sniffs. “If you’d Summoned them the way I told you to, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation.”

Ashura pulls Sakura bodily into his arms and kicks out at Indra who merely laughs and moves away. “Tell her about your scar.” He smirks when Indra’s eyes widen. “Yeah, the one on your abdomen.”

Sakura watches with fascination as a dull blush spreads across Indra’s shoulders and upper chest. “Alright, now I’m curious,” she says.

Indra sighs, moving closer to Sakura and pointing out a dark bluish-green scar that spans part of his lower stomach. Sakura gasps, running her hands over the shiny scar. “Poison?”

“Yeah,” he mutters, refusing to look at her.

“Go on now,” Ashura says. “It’s your turn to be embarrassed.”

Indra fidgets for a moment before sighing. “Fine. Well, when I was young, maybe fourteen or so, I was…kami, I was an asshole. I thought I was the strongest person following my father.” He laughs, shaking his head at his own foolishness. “I was quite an idiot.”

Sakura laughs. She has heard all the stories about their turbulent childhood and she has heard about their mistakes. “So what exactly happened?”

Indra flushes and begins to tell his story.

The twilight hours fade into night as laughter fills the room. The trio continues to explore each other’s stories and scars.

Sakura is filled with joy as she hears and shares past mishaps. This, this right here, is perfect.

* * *

 

Sakura wakes with a silent gasp, hands scrabbling hard against her leg.

She stares down at the stump, willing the pain away. She knows, rationally, that there is nothing there; no nerves, no wounds, _nothing_. Still, her brain refuses to register the truth. Since the sacrifice of Inner Sakura, these phantom pains have returned with vengeance. Unfortunately, healing chakra cannot help what isn’t there.

So, she grabs her cane, shambling out of her tent to cool off and hopefully distract herself from the searing hurt. There is no point in putting on her prosthetic if she is only to be out for a few minutes. (Besides, she can never focus enough to attach it correctly when the pain gets like this.)

She stumbles down to the nearby river, clumsily throwing herself into a seated position. Sakura quickly and efficiently removes her clothes and plunges her leg into the icy water. Sometimes it helps. Other days it does not.

Tonight is one such unfortunate night.

She sits awkwardly, half submerged in the water and holding herself up on her arms alone. Sakura stares up at the brilliant night sky, somewhat mollified by the stars and galaxies revealed to her.

Indra finds her here, her figure poignant in the moonlight. He is hesitant to disturb her until he notices the tears that run down her face.

“Sakura,” he says, wrapping his arms around her. “What’s wrong?”

She turns slightly, catching the way he looks at her like she is something delicate and precious and wanted. Her heart warms and she manages a smile. “Just phantom pains,” she says, closing her eyes as she leans into his embrace.

Indra looks down at her head, pressing his face into her hair for a moment before he easily turns her in his arms. Sakura yelps at the sudden change of position, cradled safely in Indra’s arms. She bites back her joking complaint when she sees how his eyes are focused, intent, and almost hungry as he stares down at her.

She fights a moan of pleasure as his warm, talented fingers touch her leg. His calluses catch and drag across her sensitive skin and this time Sakura cannot contain a hedonistic groan.

Sakura feels Indra’s chest vibrate with a smug chuckle. She can’t even muster up the energy to berate him, just relieved that the pain has abated for the moment. She barely has time to register his muscles bunching and stretching before he stands and moves back toward their camp.

Sakura is caught up once more in the phantom pain, time moving hazily until she is laid out on Indra’s pile of furs. (She has made fun of Indra and Ashura’s peculiarities many a time and she admits only to herself that the furs are comfortable and luxurious.)

Indra runs the back of his hand over her face, lips ghosting along the same trail. “Alright, Sakura?” he asks, concern warming his red eyes.

Sakura shrugs, hissing as a particularly painful throb strikes her.

She hisses again, albeit for an entirely different reason, when Indra’s lips and fingers brush over the scars on her leg. He maps out unknown patterns over her leg and hip; everywhere the poison has ever touched. For a moment, the phantom pain disappears.

“Indra,” she cries out.

He glances up, eyes dark and wild before redirecting his gaze to the apex of her thighs. Indra glances up at Sakura once more and raises a brow. “Is this alright?” he asks.

“Yes,” she replies.

Indra eyes her for a moment more before moving a hand over her underwear. She inhales sharply as his fingers brush against her core, nodding to Indra when he looks up again. Even through the underwear, she can feel the warmth of his fingers and his calluses. He keeps tracing random, soothing patterns over her leg even as his other hand tentatively skirts over her. Indra can feel the heat of her even through the layers of clothing.

Sakura is unravelling beneath his touch, from the simultaneous stimulation of two of her most sensitive areas. Indra smiles tenderly up at her, lifting her hips and moving her underwear out of the way.

Sakura’s world grinds to a halt.

Indra’s gaze traverses the skin now revealed to him; the curling pink hair, the newfound moles and freckles, and the wet heat emanating from her core. A slow, famished grin curls up Indra’s face and Sakura feels another pulse of warmth between her legs.

“You’re gorgeous,” Indra breathes out and Sakura shivers because she _can feel his breath_ against her most sacred of places _._ He moves his hand through his hair, looking over her with such breathtaking happiness as if he cannot believe that he is here with her. “Kami, you’re _gorgeous._ ”

Sakura flushes to the roots of her hair and Indra examines with delighted fascination as the blush spreads down toward her navel. He leans down closer to her cunt, nosing against the hair there. Sakura exhales excitedly, releasing a keening moan when his tongue darts out to lick a stripe down the seam.

Sakura sees _white_ and the afterimages of swirling galaxies and mysterious stars.

Sakura’s hips thrust upwards involuntarily as she moans. “I-Indra!” she calls plaintively even as he moves impossibly closer to her heat.

She drags her hands through Indra’s hair, nails scraping against his scalp. He grunts and the vibrations take her sounds to a new level: words of encouragement and pleas for liberation pouring from Sakura’s lips.

Indra takes note, moaning throatily against her even as he ruts against the furs. He is beyond happy that he is giving Sakura this pleasure; that she is willing to be vulnerable like this with him. Tonight is about her and her alone.

The night is filled with heavy panting and wild moans and Sakura cannot even remember what phantom pains feel like or even what pain alone is. Sakura’s world has narrowed down to Indra and his clever tongue and fingers. There is nothing outside this moment and Sakura knows that it will forever be imprinted upon her mind.

Her hips pitch up toward him and Indra grabs her bodily, pulling her closer and striking her at a new angle. Sakura _screams_ , a hot knot tightening in her lower stomach. Indra seems to realize what is happening, moving two fingers to either side of her clitoris.

He pinches ever so slightly.

Sakura’s world implodes in a supernova, mouth open in a silent gasp as the knot within her releases. Indra laps against her swollen folds for a few moments longer, hands rubbing over both of her legs. She is quivering; shaky in a way that she cannot remember ever being. Indra strokes her soothingly, helping her calm down from the high she has just reached. With the gentlest hands, he cleans her up, mouthing different parts of her skin as she trembles.

Finally, Indra moves up her body, kissing her rather chastely. Sakura can taste herself on his lips and she finds herself glancing below his waist. She flushes. He is very clearly outlined against his sleepwear. (Sakura is undeniably flattered that he finds her so attractive.) Sakura brushes her hand against the straining tent in his pants but Indra shakes his head slightly, smiling down at her with affection.

“Why?” she asks, hurt creeping into her voice.

“You’re exhausted,” he replies, voice rasping. He brushes her sweaty hair out of her face, moving her into a laying position as they face each other. “I know you haven’t been sleeping well. Your leg’s been bothering you. How does it feel now?”

Sakura grins, throwing an arm around him as she prepares to sleep. “I can’t feel anything at all.”


End file.
